


The Final Straw

by draco_somnians



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Injury, Minor Character Death, Minor Character(s), Secret Santa, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-16
Updated: 2010-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:51:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draco_somnians/pseuds/draco_somnians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's injured and trapped off-world. Written for sj_everyday Secret Santa 2009 for iwishiwerekerry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Straw

Jack had given up trying not to look bored over an hour ago as he listened to Balinsky prattle on about rocks. More frigging rocks. What was it with this guy and the rocks? And did he really think Jack cared? Unless he could immediately call the President with a message that they’d found the biggest stash ever of Naquadah/Trinium/favourite super-mineral of the week, Jack didn’t really care for rocks.

He almost shouted for joy when the klaxons blared and Walter’s familiar voice informed everyone that there was an unscheduled incoming wormhole. He sprang up from his seat at the head of the briefing table and hurried down the stairs without so much as an apologetic glance at SG-13, half of whom had looked as bored as he was for the last hour.

He reached the control room, skipping over the last step, and Walter, ever the dutiful sergeant, got him up to speed before he’d even asked. What in the world would he ever do without Walter Harriman?

“It’s Colonel Carter sir, she’s under heavy fire.”

Jack’s pulse sped up instantly; he could almost feel his blood pressure rising. “She’s alone?” he asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

“I think so sir,” Walter answered quickly.

“Open it up,” Jack ordered, staring at the video feed coming through the MALP and trying to see what the hell was going on. All he could identify were trees and the blasts from some kind of energy weapon that he didn’t recognise. Walter slapped his hand down on the palm scanner and the iris opened, revealing the shimmering blue event horizon.

Jack leaned into the mic on the console, pressing the button down firmly. “Door’s open Carter,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the wormhole.

Nothing happened.

He could still hear the blasts of those weapons skimming past the MALP and through the static on the feed could only just make out Carter’s broken words.

“...pinned down..... he’s hurt....can’t get...to the gate....”

Suddenly, the screen blinked out to blackness and the radio went silent. Jack felt cold all over.

“They hit the MALP, sir,” Walter said, frantically tapping at the buttons on his keyboard. He froze when the wormhole suddenly blinked out of existence and the entire gate room and control room fell silent.

“Walter?” Jack asked, his voice sounding rough, even to his own ears.

“I don’t know sir. I was trying to keep the radio signal going to keep it open...” Walter trailed off, still staring at the lifeless gate.

“Dial it up again,” Jack ordered, and then spun around, snatching the phone off its cradle. “This is General O’Neill. I want SG3 geared up and ready to embark and a UAV in the gate room; now!” He slammed the phone down and turned back to the gate, watching each chevron engage and the wormhole whoosh back to life.    




Siler and a small team of sergeants appeared in record time with the UAV, setting it up quickly, and before they’d finished, SG3 were in the gate room ready to go. Jack smiled and couldn’t help the wave of admiration, even under such crappy circumstances. His people were truly amazing.

“Ready to go, sir,” Siler called up to the control room, and Jack nodded at Walter’s questioning look. The miniature UAV burst into life and took off through the wormhole. Walter pulled it up as soon as it rematerialised to avoid the weapons still firing near the gate.

“Damn,” Jack muttered under his breath. “Anything on the radio?” he asked a little louder, staring at the screen feeding video footage of bright blue sky and not much else.

“No sir,” Walter replied, turning the UAV to circle back round to the gate, but keeping it high. “Colonel Carter, this is Stargate Command, do you read?” Walter said into the mic. He was greeted with nothing but radio static.

“Bring it back around,” Jack ordered, “Find out where those weapons are.”

The gate came back into view on the screen and Jack could see large areas of scorched ground, patches of dry grass still burning; and, right by the gate, their smoking MALP. The weapons fired again, giving Jack a clear view of exactly where the shots were coming from.

“Take them out,” he ordered harshly.

 

***

 

Sam groaned as the vibrations of an explosion rippled through the ground. She forced her eyes open, wincing when she tried to move and a vicious pain shot up her leg. She could hear the UAV circling and automatically reached for the radio in her vest pocket. It wasn’t there.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she pulled herself to the edge of the cover she’d dragged herself and Major Thomas into. Her radio was nowhere to be seen. She did, however, spot something that made panic swell in her chest.

She heard a voice behind her and scrambled back into the dense undergrowth. She grabbed the major’s crackling radio, trying to ignore his still-open eyes and the smoke curling from the hole in his vest. Those weapons were much too similar to staff weapons to be coincidental.

“This is Colonel Carter,” she said into the radio, her voice hoarse with pain.

“Oh thank god,” she heard someone say before a clearer, more familiar voice spoke.

“What’s your situation Carter?” General O’Neill said.

“Thomas is dead,” she said, staring at the man, her voice cracking as she spoke, “So are the rest of SG6. I think you got all of the hostiles, but...” her voice faltered, the enormity of the situation sinking in, “...you can’t send a rescue team sir. They destroyed the DHD.”  

There was a long moment of silence and she watched the UAV circle above and head for the DHD, checking out her statement.

“Can you get back to the village?” O’Neill asked through the radio.

“No sir,” she said, her voice choked, “It’s a day’s walk, and I...” She looked down at her blood-soaked BDU pants, the mangled flesh of her leg showing through the various rips. “I can’t walk, sir.” She closed her eyes against the threatening tears stinging them, her father’s voice ringing in her ears, telling her to find her strength, fight the emotions and keep a level head.

 

***

 

“Fuck!” Jack swore loudly, his hand clenching into a fist on the console. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to keep his anger and frustration in check. He was a general now; he had to keep calm, controlled and not completely lose it in front of his staff. “SG3 stand down,” he barked.

“General?” Walter asked gently, waiting for some kind of instruction; an order, an answer. Jack looked at him and swallowed the lump in his throat, his mouth suddenly dry as he made his decision. A decision that would surely get him court-martialled if he survived.

“I need a Naquadah generator and medical supplies,” he said quietly, watching realisation dawn on the sergeant’s face. “Keep the gate open, keep her talking and conscious. Get someone to page Reynolds to take command. I’ll be ready in five minutes.”   




“You’re going alone sir?” Walter asked, sounding alarmed.

“Yes,” Jack said, straightening up and looking down at SG3 unclipping their weapons. “A manual dial out possibly under enemy fire? I can’t send anyone else.”

“But sir...” Walter protested, but Jack cut him off.

“You have your orders, sergeant.”  

 

Jack was ready in five minutes; his field jacket was a little tighter than the last time he’d worn it, and at first the P90 had felt almost foreign in his hands, but he knew it wouldn’t take long for his body to settle into the old, familiar, comfort of having a pack strapped to his back and a weapon in his grip.

The pack was heavier than he remembered, thanks to the Naquadah reactor carefully secured in the top and the numerous medical supplies that had been hurriedly acquired from the infirmary. He’d have to carry it all himself; another wasted MALP would just make this look worse when he came back to face the music.

He stood at the bottom of the gate ramp, surrounded by SG3, whose protests he fiercely ignored, various SFs and Siler’s team who had all stuck around, apparently to see him off. He turned to the control room window, where he could see Walter still talking into the mic, and hoped to hell Carter was still listening.

He gave his last orders, silencing the argument going on around him about who was coming with him or going in his stead, and he felt every pair of eyes in the room fixed on him.

“Walter, if you don’t hear from me within 24 hours, lock out the iris codes,” he said solemnly, “And try and land the UAV near the gate. I’ll try to bring that back too.”

He turned back to the ramp, took a deep breath and hitched the pack a little higher on his shoulders. He wrapped his hand around the solid, cool, metal of the P90, his finger automatically resting lightly on the trigger, and stepped up onto the ramp. He wasn’t even half way when he heard Walter’s voice again.

“Sir?” he said, and when Jack turned around, every soldier in the room was staring at him, sending out their silent but fierce support. “Good luck General,” Walter said. Jack’s eyes flickered from one man to the next; it still astonished him, the support he got from these people. He looked up through the control room window, nodded once, and continued up the ramp, raising the sight of his P90 almost to eye-level, ready for whatever might greet him on the other side.

 

***

 

Sam lay as still as she could; every movement she made sent a fresh wave of agony shooting up her leg and halfway up her spine. Walter was talking to her over the radio, but it was mostly one-way conversation; she was losing blood, and with it, her will to fight what seemed like the inevitable. The gate would shut down soon, leaving her here, alone, with no hope of getting herself back to Earth and no hope of anyone from the village finding her before it was too late.

She gritted her teeth and tried to focus her mind on survival, but every scenario she came up with ended with her dying on this planet. Optimism had never been her forte.

She’d had a bad feeling about this mission from the start. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust SG-6, but being off-world without Daniel and Teal’c made her a little uneasy. The village had seemed fairly primitive and all they’d wanted were a few soil samples, which the leaders had been more than happy to let them take.

Clearly, they’d been a lot more advanced than anyone had realised.

She heard the gate shut down and, as her head rested on the damp ground, she closed her eyes, breathing steadily and hoping the blood loss would mean she’d pass out soon and take away the agonising pain. Turning her head, she took one last look in Major Thomas’s direction and realised she knew nothing about the man. Did he have a family? A wife or girlfriend? Someone who’d miss him?

She took one shuddering breath and turned away. There was nothing more she could do now.

 

***

 

Jack emerged from the gate and immediately dived for cover behind the wrecked MALP. He hated that his mind automatically suggested a figure for how much the replacement would cost. Since when had he become _that_ guy?

He took a moment to scan the tree line thoroughly, his ears carefully listening for any indication that there was still someone out there waiting to take him down when he broke cover. His eyes fixed on a spot in the undergrowth where the ground was scuffed and the branches of the scrub were broken.

That’s where she was hiding. Out of range of the weapons fire, in dense cover that couldn’t be seen through; it was where he would hide in her situation. He reached for his radio.

 

***

 

Sam closed her eyes and tried to even out her breathing. She took slow, deep breaths and tried to relax her body. The pain made it hard.

Eventually, she felt the pull of unconsciousness and her mind welcomed it. Her head was spinning, round and round with circular thoughts about her father, her brother, Cassie, the rest of her team. She tried to clear her head, tried to think of nothing and just let herself drift off to sleep.

She thought she heard the gate activate, but knew she was imagining it. Even if it was real, it couldn’t be anyone from Earth. There was no way the General could risk sending a team through.

“Carter?” she heard, and wondered if she’d hit her head. Hallucinations were not what she needed right now.

“Sir,” she muttered quietly anyway.

“_Carter?”_ the voice said again, more urgently this time. She blinked her eyes open, but instead of the imagined face of her CO, she only saw green, and glimpses of blue sky.

 

***

 

He hurried towards the tree line, keeping his senses alert for anyone or anything approaching. He hadn’t felt this kind of adrenaline rush in months, and if the situation was different, he might even enjoy it. His fear had overridden every other emotion when calling her through his radio had got no response at all.

 When he finally got to where he thought Carter was hiding, he pushed his way through the bushes and his heart seemed to stop in his chest. Her P90 was unclipped from her vest, but still gripped tightly by her right hand and a radio was lying on her chest, but she was lying flat on her back, not moving a muscle, her eyes closed.

For a moment, all he could think was that he was too late; Carter was already dead.

He crouched down stiffly, trying to see her chest move to let him know she was still breathing, but her bulky vest made it difficult and he didn’t quite trust his eyes not to play tricks on him.

“Carter?” he said quietly, reaching out a shaking hand to feel the pulse point on her neck. When his fingers touched her cool skin, he exhaled harshly in relief; her pulse fluttered under his fingers, and then her eyes slowly opened.

“Sir?” she croaked.

“I’m here,” he said, his eyes drifting down to her leg now that he knew she was alive and conscious. It was definitely broken and, by the look of things, badly burned. The ground underneath her leg was dark with her blood, and the leg of her BDU pants was almost black.

“But... you can’t...” she muttered, her speech a little slurred, “...we’re stuck...”

“We’ll be alright, Carter,” he said, trying to keep a reassuring tone to his voice and ignore the panic building in his chest, “I’m gonna get you home.”

He shifted to his knees and unclipped his pack. He had to get to work quickly; there was no telling how long it would take for more of these hostile aliens to show up. He placed his P90 on the ground beside his pack, making sure it was in easy reach if he needed it, and dragged the medical supplies out. He just had to do this one step at a time.

He winced when he got closer to her wounds. “I’m gonna have to splint that leg before I move you,” he said.

She nodded and smiled weakly. “Time to get your revenge?” she joked, and he laughed humourlessly. He knew just how much this was going to hurt her. He took a dose of morphine out of the kit and she didn’t even protest when he gave it to her. It would take a few minutes to kick in, but the amount of blood she’d already lost was scaring him; he had to get her back to the infirmary as quickly as possible.

“I’ll try and make it quick,” he said, gathering the splints and bandages he would need to secure her leg. The burns would have to wait until they got back to the SGC. She wisely let go of her P90, letting it fall to the floor beside her and Jack surreptitiously checked that the safety was on. “So what happened to you guys?” he asked, taking a brief glance at Major Thomas and noticing Carter’s eyes drift in the same direction. It wasn’t the best topic of conversation, but it was all he could think of to take her mind off what he was about to do.

“I have no idea what went wrong,” she said, her fists clenching in anticipation and her face scrunching up in pain as he grasped her leg and got ready to straighten the lower half of her shin into the position nature intended. “"Me and Tomas started off early with the samples, The others stayed to finish some ceremony and then followed.” He moved his hand and she flinched in pain as he connected with a burnt area. “They were just coming up behind us, had just checked in when someone attacked us. We tried to get to them, but they were cut down before we even got in range.”She cried out loudly when he moved her leg, but then bit back the sound, breathing harshly through her nose, her whole upper body tensing as he set her leg.

“Sorry Carter,” he said, “That’s the worst of it over with.”

She was still breathing heavily, but her body relaxed a little. He noticed a trickle of blood below her lip and was startled for a moment, until he realised she’d bitten through it while trying to keep quiet. He’d wait for the pain relief to take effect before he bandaged the splints in place.

“Can we get his body back to Earth?” she asked after a moment.

He frowned and tried to work out the logistics of getting the gate dialled, and getting Carter, himself, a UAV and the major through the gate without encountering any more problems. “We’ll try,” he answered, doubting it would be possible, “But you’re the main priority.”   

He lifted her leg gently, trying to support it as much as he could as he secured the splints. She winced, but once again fought the urge to make any sound. Her eyes closed and he realised he needed to keep her talking if he didn’t want her slipping into unconsciousness. As hurt as she was, he would need her help to pull this off.

“So Carter,” he began, nodding towards the Naquadah generator, “You gotta talk me through hooking this thing up to the gate.” He already knew how, but he also knew Carter; she’d need to keep her mind focussed on the job to get through this.

He listened to her slurred instructions and almost regretted giving her the morphine, even though it had clearly helped with the pain.

When he was done with her leg, he carefully set it back down on the ground and picked up his weapon, clipping it back onto his vest. He repacked everything into his pack, but left out the generator and the cables he’d need to hook it up. He edged closer to the border of their hiding place and scouted the tree line for anything suspicious.

“Sir!” Carter said from behind him, “You can’t go out there alone!”  

He turned back with raised eyebrows. “You’re hurt Carter. I’ll come back and get you once the gate is open.”

She shook her head and tried to push herself up onto her elbows. “You need cover sir,” she argued, “You have to take me with you.”

She was right, but that meant he’d have to carry her, and the generator and all their gear, to the gate in one go, and forget about coming back for Major Thomas; there was no way he’d be able to leave Carter out by the gate alone and exposed. He sighed heavily.

“Alright,” he said, throwing off his pack, “We’ll leave everything that’s not essential.”

“Help me to my feet,” she said, pushing herself almost up to a sitting position.

“You really shouldn’t put weight on that leg Carter,” he said. She just glared at him in response.

“How else are we going to do this?” she asked. He conceded, but before he helped her up, he crossed over to where Thomas was lying on the forest floor and dug under his jacket for his dog tags. They both knew they weren’t taking him home.

Between them, they managed to get her upright, leaning heavily on Jack. She took the P90, and he carried the generator and the rest of the essential equipment they’d need, his own gun still strapped to his chest. He’d debated over the weapon, but had decided if they were attacked again, they’d need all the firepower they could get.

It was slow going, between her hobbling across the short distance to the gate and all the extra weight they were carrying. He joked about being happy she’d streamlined the design of the generators, but they soon fell into silence, both of them breathing heavily and trying to stay attuned to their surroundings, waiting for any hostile movements.

When they finally made it to the gate, Jack was mentally cursing his lapse in fitness regime. He set Carter and all their gear carefully down on the ground and once more took a good look at that tree line. He felt uneasy out in the open like this, and the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up with every unfamiliar sound.

“Sir...” he heard Carter say weakly, “We have to hurry.”

He’d propped her up against the side of the MALP, wanting to keep her as close as possible, but also give her a good line of sight for any approaching trouble. When he turned towards her, he swore as he noticed the wounds that had all but stopped bleeding when he’d bandaged her up, were now soaking through the pant leg of her BDU again. He didn’t have time to redo them and they’d left the remainder of the medical supplies behind.

He got to work quickly, connecting the generator to the gate and firing it up. He kept glancing at Carter periodically, amazed to see her still fighting to stay awake, still scanning every bit of their surroundings as he worked; still keeping his six covered.

“You already knew...” she said quietly, waving her hand vaguely in his direction. “How to do this...” she explained, and he nodded.

“Needed to keep you awake, Carter. Stay with me,” he urged. The generator reached the frequency Carter had told him it needed to charge the gate and he saw the chevrons glow faintly. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the task at hand; he’d seen Teal’c struggle to do this before and it was going to be a hell of a job to move the inner ring by himself and somehow stop it on the right glyphs. But he had to do it; he had to get Carter home.

He pushed hard on the ring of Naquadah, and it eventually moved. His fears had been spot on; stopping it in the right place was the hardest part. He felt overjoyed when the first chevron lit up and engaged.

“One down Carter,” he said, breathless, “Only six to go...”

He got no reply and when he looked over to where she was resting, his heart skipped a beat. Her head had slumped down onto her chest and she wasn’t moving. He didn’t have the time to go over; he had to get this gate open as quickly as possible. He told himself she was just sleeping; it was the drugs that had knocked her out and the exertion of getting here on her broken and burnt leg. He just hoped to hell that none of those aliens showed up.

He worked as fast as he could, grunting with exertion every time he heaved the inner ring of the gate to the correct position. His arms were burning with lactic acid, the lancing pain in his knees kept threatening to make them give out and sweat poured off his brow and soaked through his clothes. The sound of the seventh chevron locking was heaven to his ears and he stumbled out of the way of the impending vortex. When it had stabilized, he grabbed the GDO on his arm and frantically punched in the numbers. As he was waiting for the confirmation signal, he heard a noise behind him that sounded eerily like footsteps running through heavy undergrowth; they were out of time. Not stopping to see if he was correct, he rushed over to Carter and scooped her up into his arms.

Her eyes briefly fluttered open. “Jack...” she whispered, and then her head lolled backwards and she lost consciousness again.

“Hang on Carter,” he ground out, “We’re almost there.”

He heard the weapons discharging behind him, but there was no way he could reach his radio to warn the SGC that they were coming in hot, or his weapon to return fire. He briefly thought of the UAV lying by the gate, but pushed the thought away fiercely, angry at himself for even considering the monetary cost of losing it.

He almost ran through the event horizon, somehow finding one last burst of energy in his legs. As they rematerialized on the other side, he yelled for the gate to be shut down and felt a blast of energy whizz right past his head, watching it crash into the opposite wall of the gate room. He dropped to his knees as the gate was silenced behind him.

“Carter,” he said, moving his head towards hers, still cradling her body in his arms. She wasn’t breathing. “_Sam!”_ he said more urgently as the medical team hurried up the ramp. “She’s not breathing,” he choked out, unable to suppress the raw emotion in his voice.

The medics moved her quickly onto the gurney, one of them straddling her chest immediately and starting compressions as they whisked her away.

He stayed where he was, frozen to the spot, his mind whirling with the events of the last few hours. He felt someone pat him on the shoulder.

“Jack?”

It was Daniel and Jack blinked, turning his head towards the voice.

“Come on Jack,” he said, “You need to get up.”

He struggled to his feet, every bone and muscle in his body feeling numb when they should be aching like hell. Shock. He knew this feeling.

“Is she...?”

Daniel shook his head. “I don’t know yet,” he said gently, “We need to get you down to the infirmary.”

 




When they made it to the infirmary, one of the junior doctors tried to usher him into a bed but he resisted, pulling away from her and Daniel and stalking off in a quest to find Carter. When he got to the isolation room, he was surprised and hugely relieved to find it relatively calm. Carter was lying still on the bed in the middle of the room, wearing an oxygen mask, but no tube down her throat, which meant she was breathing on her own.

He walked into the room, ignoring a nurse’s protests that he was still in his filthy BDUs in a clinical area. The medical team were working on her leg, cleaning the wounds.

He approached the bed, and as much as he wanted to reach out and assure himself she really was home and safe, he didn’t touch her when he looked down at the state of his hands; he really was filthy.

“We’re prepping her for surgery,” Dr. Brightman said, stepping closer to Jack. He could feel her giving him a quick once-over, but the patient on the bed was much more important. “I think you saved her leg general,” she said and gave him a tight smile.

“She gonna be OK?” he asked quietly, not taking his eyes off Sam’s motionless body.

“Providing there are no complications with the surgery,” she answered, “But she’s lost a lot of blood and those burns are quite severe. She may need skin grafts. It’s going to be a slow recovery.”

“We’re ready doctor,” one of the nurses said, and Daniel tugged Jack’s sleeve, urging him out of the room and out of the way. They walked back to the main infirmary and Jack slumped down onto one of the beds, holding his suddenly aching head in his hands.

“Are you hurt?” Daniel asked, sounding alarmed, and Jack heard the click of heels immediately hurrying across the infirmary floor. He shook his head.

“No, I’m fine,” he answered, “Just a headache.”

“Understandable,” Daniel said, and sat down on the bed next to Jack, waving the nurse away.

“I can’t do this anymore, Daniel,” Jack said, his dry throat constricting around the words. “It was too damn close this time.”

“It’s always too close,” Daniel sighed, “She’ll be alright Jack. She’s fighting.”

Jack nodded dumbly and forced himself up off the bed. He desperately needed a shower and clean clothes; and needed something to keep him occupied while Carter was in surgery.

 

An hour later, he was clean and his headache was fading, but the ache in him limbs and joints was finally setting in. He’d wanted to stay in the infirmary until Carter was out of surgery and awake, but he couldn’t shy away from his responsibilities, and a phone call from General Hammond had forced him back to his office.

He had a feeling Hammond had somehow contrived to be the person who had to talk to Jack after his disregard for the standard operating procedures, and the understanding tones coming over the phone line almost made him regret what he was about to do. Whatever punishment they were going to dole out for this didn’t matter after all, one more blemish on his service record didn’t matter anymore; he wanted out. He was sick and tired of losing good men and women, tired of watching _his _team go off-world without him, but the final straw had been almost losing Carter yet again.

 

***

 

Sam woke up to the familiar bright lights and busy sounds of the infirmary. Her head felt fuzzy and it took a while for her vision to clear, but when it did, she heaved out a breath of relief. She was back on Earth, safe and sound. She couldn’t quite tell if she was in one piece; whatever drugs they had her on had numbed any pain she might otherwise be feeling.

She saw a figure step into her field of vision, and felt the faint pressure of fingers slipping into her hand.

“Hey Carter,” Jack said quietly. He sat down on the edge of her bed gingerly and her mind suddenly raced. Why was he being so careful?

“How bad is it?” she asked suddenly, trying to sit up, but he placed a hand on her shoulder and eased her back down to the bed.

“Broken leg and a few burns,” he said, “I’m afraid you’re not getting out of this one quickly or without scars.”

She huffed out a breath. “But I’ll live,” she said, nodding her head.

“Definitely,” he answered, giving her a sudden bright smile and then dipping his head to hide it quickly. His fingers squeezed hers; he was still holding her hand, and it was then that she noticed the curtains around her bed had been drawn.

“Sir?” she asked, “What’s going on?” He usually stuck close by if any of them were hurt, but this kind of contact was unusual and the two of them alone together in such a private space was almost unheard of these days.

He took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on hers. “I resigned, Carter. In approximately an hour there will be a two-star General arriving at the base to take command...”

“What?!” she said, her eyes widening in shock.

He continued as if he hadn’t even heard her. “When that happens, you and I need to have a little chat,” he finished, not breaking the intense eye contact, and his thumb brushed slowly over the back of her hand.

She laid back on the bed completely struck dumb, her heart hammering in her chest and her thoughts turning in circles.

“Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything from you right now, and the doc will kill me if she finds out I’m telling you this right after surgery,” he glanced over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be waiting there to scold him and she couldn’t suppress her amusement. He smiled when he turned back to find her grinning at him, and then looked at his watch. “I need to go, they’ll be here soon.”

“Go,” she urged, and waved towards her leg with a wry smile, “I’m not going anywhere.” He began to move, but she suddenly tightened her grip on his hand. “Jack,” she said, delighted when his eyes lit up at the sound of his name on her lips, “Thank you for bringing me home.”

He leaned forward and completely stunned her when he pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead and gave her fingers one last squeeze, whispering, “Always.” 


End file.
